Confessions of a Teenage Witch
by completely
Summary: This is I, Lily Evans. I'm out on a mission to kill James Potter. He will pay for what he's done. In groveling and slaps, of course. Wish him luck, he's gonna need it. JL eventually, lots of twists and turns along the way. Xx


_My idea's bunny is on a roll! WOOT! _

* * *

Oh, you have _got_ to be joking.

As I looked around the ransacked Heads' Common room, I sighed.

I knew this would happen.

Well, with James Potter as Head Boy, it was guaranteed.

I glanced around, surveying the damage. Books had been thrown out of the bookcase, the sofa had padding and springs coming out of it, and the various paintings on the wall had fallen to the floor. Also, the room smelt oddly like prunes.

I wrinkled up my nose, disgusted. Ew.

I picked my way through the debris to my door, entitled "Head Girl."

James Potter was _so dead_.

Well, I wouldn't be Head Girl much longer. Dumbledore would definitely fire me after I've killed James Potter.

And end up in Askaban.

I opened my door, and stood, framed in the doorway, shocked.

My room looked like a nuclear bomb had hit it. And, knowing the Marauders, it probably had.

Oh, James Potter was _so dead_. I clenched my fists and growled. I had had enough.

When I had got my letter, age eleven, I had been thrilled to discover a new world and learn about magic. But there were other reasons too. Like I was constantly bickering with my sister, and screaming/throwing things at her, etc. Hogwarts was going to be my safe haven; the place where I would stop feeling down and have _fun. _

That was until Potter walked into my life.

Well, actually, more barged in my life. The arrogant toerag.

Nowadays, all I seem to do is fight with blasted Potter. Actually, it really isn't my fault. If Potter didn't ask me out 24/7, then I wouldn't have any reason to yell at him.

Well, actually I would. I scream at him daily for even existing.

"_What have I done, Evans?" asked Potter, smirking cheekily._

"_Well," said Lily, counting the points off on her fingers, "You were born, you came to Hogwarts, you annoyed the hell out of me, the list goes on and on and on…"_

"_Oh, I'm sorry I was born, Evans," replied James sarcastically. _

"_I'm sorry too, Potter."_

That was basically how our conversations went, day in, day out.

But the stupid prat had finally crossed the line.

I collapsed on my bed; this, so far, had remained intact. I sighed heavily, and fell into a fitful slumber.

Tomorrow would be a brighter day, I thought before I fell asleep. I didn't know how wrong I would be.

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

Today had not started well. I had fallen out of bed onto this spiky _thing_, (God knows how it had got there, I had never seen it before in my life) and now I had a massive gash on my back. Also, I had just fallen down the Great Hall staircase, on my way down to breakfast. In full view of everyone. And everyone laughed. Well, they did until I gave them my famous Death Glare.

Ha, that shut them up.

I still had seen no sign of Potter this morning, which was lucky for him.

When I had tripped, and was lying on the floor, giving everyone the Death Glare, Dory, my best mate, came to help me up. Three words to describe Dory:

Mad, crazy, hyper. All day long.

But not today. After kindly taking pity on me and helping me up, Dory sighed loudly.

I reeled back in shock. _Dory just sighed. And she's not smiling._

Forgetting about breakfast in shock of this new phenomenon, I dragged Dory down the corridor, and into an alcove. Pushing her in, I crossed my arms.

"What's wrong?"

"What? Nothings wrong." replied Dory, looking shifty eyed.

I looked at her in disbelief. "Yeah, right…"

I stared at her, looking at face to try and decipher how she was feeling. She tried to avoid my gaze, obviously uncomfortable.

"Dory…"

She sighed heavily, admitting defeat. She knew she could never hide anything from me. I was too bloody nosy.

"How did you know?"

"You're not smiling."

She looked at me in disbelief. "I don't always smile!"

I snorted. "Dory, you have that smile permanently glued to your face. Apart from today of course."

Silence. I waited.

Five, four, three, two, one…

"It's Remus!" she blurted out, then looked shocked at how her mouth had betrayed her.

Ha. I knew Dory too well.

"Spill. What about him?"

"I like him. A lot." she confessed.

"So? I'm sure he likes you back." I said.

"Buthekeepsonavoidingmefornoapparentreason!" she said breathlessly.

I blinked. And blinked again.

"Say what?"

She sighed. I felt alarmed. This was not Dory. "But he keeps on avoiding me for no apparent reason."

I put an arm around her. "Look, I'm sure he's not avoiding you deliberately."

"He is!"

"We'll see." I led her down the corridor to breakfast, intent on getting Remus at least to say hello to her. We entered the dining hall, me clinging on to Dory for dear life; she was trying to run away.

But on scanning the hall, I realised that Remus wasn't there. And nor were the rest of the Marauders. Hmm, fishy.

Dory, like me, had been scanning the hall. When she couldn't find Remus, she turned to me. "See! He's not here!"

"Dory, I can see that."

"I told you he was avoiding me!"

"The rest of the blasted Marauders aren't here either, Dory, in case you haven't noticed."

But she obviously hadn't noticed, and she took no notice of me, either. She was now beginning to get hysterical, and people were staring. So, without further ado, I dragged her out, conjured a bucket of water (I am quite good at charms, if I do say so myself) and promptly poured it over her head.

Spluttering, Dory rubbed the water out of her eyes. "Thanks, I needed that."

"You certainly did."

Changing topics, Dory said: "Well, if they're not in there, where are they?!"

"I don't know. But we'll find out, for my sake and yours."

"Why for your sake?"

"Potter trashed our Head rooms', including my private dorm. To put it mildly, I have a _big _bone to pick with him."

"Meaning your going to kill him."

I smirked. Dory knew me too well, too. "Of course."

Grabbing her hand, we ploughed in among the crowd of people down the corridor to Transfiguration. As we waited outside the classroom, several fan girls of James and Sirius giggled, and then shot death glares at me. None of them rivalled my own, of course.

They were just jealous, said Dory one day, the day when James actually went down on his knees and asked me to marry him. You can have him any day of the week, I had yelled at them.

Too right.

Finally, McGonagall arrived, looking slightly flustered, which is definitely a first for her. Pushing past me, she burst into the classroom, and everyone followed her in. Everyone settled at their desks. There was a slight scuffle at the back; everyone wanted to sit there.

Well, boo hoo.

When everyone had seated, McGonagall began the lesson.

"Today, class, we are going to be focusing on…"

I sighed. Transfiguration is definitely not my best subject. I couldn't even concentrate on _the first sentence _McGonagall said at the beginning of the lesson. What would I be like at the end?

Asleep, I hear you cry. Well, you were wrong. It is virtually impossible to sleep in McGonagall's class. History of Magic, yes. Transfiguration, no.

See; look at now, for instance. I had just closed my eyes when-

"…isn't that right Miss Evans?"

Not knowing what the hell I was agreeing to, I nodded.

Convinced I was actually listening, she turned back to the blackboard.

That time hadn't been that bad. One time I had agreed that toads were the best looking animal on the planet.

Don't ask me how we had got onto that conversation, because I can't tell you. I obviously wasn't listening.

Glancing around the classroom, I noticed there were three empty spaces at the front of the class. The Marauders (minus Peter, he's too stupid to be in this class, on second thoughts, so am I) are still not here. Where the hell were they?

I blinked as the bell rang throughout the castle. Thank goodness that torture lesson is finally over.

"Miss Evans? I need to speak to you."

Uh oh.

Packing my bag, I stuffed my quill, parchment and the textbook into it. I stood up gingerly, and walked down the aisle of desks up to the front.

"Miss Evans." said McGonagall, getting straight to the point, as per usual. "I expect you've been wondering where Mr Potter and his fellow comrades are." She winced as she said the word 'comrades', like it was some painful torture.

Yes, of course I was wondering where he was. I wanted to kill him, and that would be pretty difficult with him not being around. It was actually quite scary. It was like McGonagall could read my mind.

"I'm sure you are concerned for his wellbeing."

Or maybe not. Wellbeing? Hang on; aren't you going a bit far there? I have never been concerned for Potter's wellbeing, and I plan never to be. Of course, it would be helpful if he was alive; I want to kill him by my own hand. If he's dead, I can always go and stab his body a few times.

It's a win-win situation, really.

McGonagall was obviously looking for some kind of response. "Uh, yeah." I said. McGonagall rolled her eyes. It looked like the 'McGonagall actually believes me charm' had run out. Ah well, I had enjoyed it while it lasted.

"He is in the Hospital Wing, suffering from his injuries."

My eyes lit up. Injuries? Ha, the prat deserved them. How many times had he injured Snape?

"I would like you to go and see him." If nothing else had provoked a response from me so far in this conversation; this definitely would.

"Do I have to?" I whined childishly.

I would prefer to kill Potter and get away with it. If McGonagall knew where I was, she would obviously know who had inflicted the red hand-print on Potters' cheek. Which was coming, believe me.

"Yes. You are Head Girl and he is Head Boy."

Well, duh. Even Peter knows that.

"Alright." I sighed.

McGonagall nodded. "Follow me."

* * *

New chapter up as soon as possibe. Might be a slight delay 'cause I have to write a new chapter of Why Girls like Shopping; I've been neglecting it. Review if you want to! 


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